


Start Line

by scorch66



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), Yamato Nadeshiko Shichi Henge | The Wallflower - All Media Types
Genre: Drama Crossover, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorch66/pseuds/scorch66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyouhei kicks and swears but Kosaku still follows. Kyouhei learns to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start Line

**Author's Note:**

> for [](http://cease11.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://cease11.livejournal.com/)**cease11**  as promised. <3

Kyouhei stepped out of the house taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air and basked in the resounding silence. No crowds of squealing fangirls or fanboys today.

"Yosh!" he cheered and began his new route to school. Sure the constant changes were annoying, but they worked in getting rid of his admirers, even if temporarily.

He began by strolling over the low stone bridge that folded over a small creek near their rented house, and then walked along the pathway edging a thin forest of bare trees. He smiled as he passed a little squirrel digging around a pile of fallen leaves. It was probably scavenging in preparation of the coming winter...

Kyouhei stopped.

Eyes-narrowed, he retraced his steps and aimed an angry kick at the mound of leaves. A dark-headed man came rolling out, moaning in pain.

"How the hell did you know I was coming this way?" Kyouhei demanded as Kosaku stood up, rubbing at the side of his waist and facing him with a pout so big it'd make a preschooler proud. Kyouhei's leg twitched. He should have kicked harder.

"I asked your friend. The short, pretty one." _Short and pretty_ , wondered Kyouhei as Kosaku continued, "N-not that you're not pretty. You're the prettiest! Really! But you really didn't need to kick so hard, you know. It hurts and getting hurt always makes me hungry and I can't eat yet beca--"

"Shut up," Kyouhei snapped and Kosaku's mouth came together with a click. "I didn't tell Noi what route I was taking." He stared at Kosaku expectantly; Kosaku blinked back. A minute passed and Kyouhei finally released a growl of frustration and slapped Kosaku upside the head. "You can speak now, idiot."

"Ouch! Well you should have said so! Kyouhei's such a meanie. First he tells me to shut up and then he--" Kosaku cut himself off with an audible gulp at the look on Kyouhei's face.

"Who told you?"

"You're not going to hit me again, are you?"

Kyouhei swung his leg in what would have been another kick if the idiot hadn't dodged. Damn Kosaku and his boxing reflexes.

"Kyouhei has to promise not to hit me first. A boxer has to be in top shape!"

Kyouhei snorted. The idiot's hopeless food addiction was way more harmful to his boxing career than Kyouhei's fists; at least the latter would train him to keep vigilant. And if Kyouhei somehow did manage to cause some serious damage, it would be well earned and then Kosaku could live out his life the way he'd always wanted: pigging out on endless bowls of ramen.

But Kyouhei's temper was reaching its breaking point. If Kosaku thought a stupid promise would save him from Kyouhei's wrath, than he was more of a moron than Kyouhei had first pegged him for.

Kyouhei rolled his eyes and with a long-suffering sigh, promised the idiot he wouldn't kick, punch, tackle, shove, pinch or slap him until his boxing match tomorrow was over.

"Pinky promise?" Kosaku asked brightly and seeing Kyouhei's unimpressed look, frowned and gave an adamant shout. "Kyouhei has to pinky promise or it doesn't count!"

 _Breathe, Kyouhei, breathe,_ Kyouhei told himself as he felt his blood pressure reach a new peak. _Just give the baby his candy_.

Taking a sharp glance around him to ensure there were no witnesses -the last thing Kyouhei needed was for his bad boy image to crumble apart with a stupid pinky promise- Kyouhei, with as much aloofness as he could manage, raised his pinky finger. Another small, stubby pinky entwined around his in an instant, the grip strong and warm.

"Kyouhei's hands are tiny," Kosaku giggled, staring at their interlocked pinkies in fascination.

Cheeks heating in indignation, Kyouhei ripped his hand away, ignoring the downturn of Kosaku's smile. "Yours are just as small, stupid. How does a boxer have such small hands, anyway?" he taunted. "But whatever, just tell me who told you so I can leave already."

"But Kyouhei isn't listening! I already said it was your small, pretty friend," and with a mischievous grin at Kyouhei, Kosaku added, "he's really nice, too. Kyouhei should be more like him!"

"Him?" Kyouhei echoed. Kosaku nodded eagerly.

Kyouhei clenched his jaw.

Yukinojo Toyama was dead.

\---

"Stop following me, you freak!" Kyouhei shouted over his shoulder at Kosaku who was now struggling to hide himself behind a lamp post. Kyouhei snorted to himself. As if the idiot's fat ass could be hidden by a skinny lamp post. Maybe if the glutton stopped stuffing his face with food every time he saw some, then it might actually work.

When Kosaku hopped over to another lamp post with a giggle, singing "you can't see me~" in his demented, squeaky voice, Kyouhei had enough of the stupidity. They were nearing his school and Kyouhei could just imagine how much more unwanted attention the singing creep would bring. He was already getting glances thrown at him as it were, beginning with annoyance when aimed at Kosaku and shifting to something more welcoming when directed at Kyouhei. Not that Kyouhei understood why; as much as it pained him to admit it, he and Kosaku looked startlingly alike. Of course, Kosaku was an obvious moron, though, so that probably explained it.

"I'm invisible~ Like a ninja~ A boxing nin--K-Kyouhei?" Kosaku squeaked as Kyouhei interrupted his accompanying dance -complete with flapping arms and a little jig- and shoved back against the lamp post, his forearm digging underneath his jaw. "Y-you pinky promised that you wouldn't hit me," Kosaku said, eyes round and wide.

"Yeah, well, I lied," said Kyouhei and lifted his free hand in the air, wriggling his finger right in Kosaku's face. "Had my fingers crossed."

The dramatic look of betrayal that spread across Kosaku's face was almost comical.

And not at all guilt-inducing.

Kyouhei softened his hold but he knew better than to let the idiot completely loose. "I'm saying this for the last time," Kyouhei leaned in closer, almost close enough to knock their crooked noses together (Kyouhei had broken his trying to evade a mob of fans and he assumed the other had gotten his from a boxing injury). "Stay away from me." He made sure to speak slowly so that even someone as moronic as Kosaku would understand. "I don't need another stalker," and just to hammer the point home, "and the ones I already   
have are more my type than you'll ever be. So give it up while I'm still being nice about this."

Kyouhei did not expect the idiot to laugh, but then again it was Kosaku who he was dealing with, so maybe he should have.

"Kyouhei's breath smells funny," Kosaku sing-songed and pinched his nose.

Kyouhei flicked him on the forehead with his index. "I know you're a moron with an attention span of a goldfish, but try to listen. It's for your own safety. You try to follow me and I'll knock you out, got it? And your boxing competition is tomorrow, right? You don't want to disappoint your coach, do you?"

"Does Kyouhei like someone?"

This time Kyouhei smacked his own forehead. A part of him wondered what it would be like to live life with such a one-track mind, but the sudden image of him doing Kosaku's moronic 'choco, choco' dance had Kyouhei immediately dispersing the thought in a violent shudder. Kyouhei would throw himself at a mob before he degraded to Kosaku's level.

"Does Kyouhei like someone?" Kosaku asked again, this time more urgent. His hands had come up to grip Kyouhei's plaid shirt and his eyes were strangely focused, for once. It creeped Kyouhei out at how similar their expressions were. "Tell me!" Kosaku whined.

"No, of course I don't--" Kyouhei began, but stilled in his attempt to free himself of Kosaku's grip -the idiot was infuriatingly strong and clingy and Kyouhei had to remind himself that as wimpy as Kosaku looked, he was still a professional boxer, more or less- as an idea occurred to him. Smoothing out his face as best as he could manage, Kyouhei stepped backward and said with a soft sigh, "Okay, fine. You caught me." He looked up through is bangs, avoiding Kosaku's eyes and focusing on his chin. "I like someone else. I have for a while now, so..."

Kyouhei didn't make a habit out of lying, and for good reason. He was horrible at it; his temper made it too obvious. Anyone else--correction, anyone else with an ounce of social awareness would have called his bluff, but Kosaku, the stupid, trusting idiot swallowed it in an instant, his shoulders sagging and his entire being wilting like a torn balloon.

The guilt precipitating in Kyouhei's gut was another reason.

"K-Kyouhei likes someone else...?" Kosaku intoned with a voice of such misery that it would have had Kyouhei rolling his eyes if it was not for the fact that he was trying to act the part of a kind, sympathetic soul. The idiot was just like his other hoards of stalkers; even with all their stalking, they all barely knew a thing about him. Granted, Kyouhei  _had_ spared a precious moment of his life to help Kosaku at their first meeting (which seemed so far away now, but was only a month ago), but that was purely because Kyouhei wasn't a complete ass and would help anyone on the brink of starvation if he could. Kyouhei had helped because of his duty as a fellow human, not because of fate or affection as the confused idiot liked to believe. Kyouhei tried not to blame him for it, though. Kosaku was just that naively stupid after all.  
  
And besides, Kyouhei had seen him chasing after a nun -the moron _would_ choose a nun as his object of affection- with his puppy love not too long ago; Kyouhei was most likely just another one of his brief infatuations.

Still, Kyouhei had to look away when Kosaku's chin began to wobble at his nod of 'yes'.

Telling the guilt shouting at the edges of his conscience to shut up, Kyouhei turned his back on Kosaku's tremoring shoulders and continued on his route.

\---

By the time school had ended, Yukinojo had managed to slip away from him a total of twenty-three times. Maybe it was Kyouhei's menacing eyes and clenched fists that had warned the idiot to run to the hills as soon as he saw him coming. The little rat could smell danger, that was for sure.

"Where'd he run to now?" Kyouhei asked Takenaga with a growl.

"He and Ranmaru took off a bit earlier--and before you ask to where, I don't know."

Kyouhei huffed. If the shrimp thought he was home free because he had managed to avoid his clutches at school, then he was sorely mistaken. Yukinojo could run all he wanted, but he'd eventually have to come home. And Kyouhei would be there to welcome him when he did.

Bags packed and disguises set, he and Takenaga began their walk home, Kyouhei planning his revenge along the way. Their thick wooly mufflers, large shades and accompanying beanies weren't so out of place now that the temperature outside was dropping and winter was closing in; it was still early in the evening but the sky was already beginning to darken. The large sunglasses could be passed off as fashionable since all the popular idols, like Kamenashi what's-his-name, wore them; Kyouhei thought they were stupid and unnecessarily flashy, though.

They had reached only a block away from the school building when a shrill, girly whine of "Takenaga~" stopped them in their tracks.

"Shit!" Kyouhei swore and turned around to see Noi running towards them, skirt swishing about her legs. He lifted a finger to his lips and pushed down with his other hand, trying to signal her to _keep quiet_. People were already beginning to throw suspicious glances their way. If Noi wasn't a girl or Takenaga's obvious girl crush, he would teach her a lesson or two; after all this time around them, she should know better by now.

Luckily, Noi was sharp -if a bit ditzy- and stopped shouting before a real crowd could form.

Kyouhei was about to sigh in relief when something smacked his head.

"What the hell?!" he glared accusingly at Takenaga who eyed him with his typical stoic look.

"You're drawing attention to us with all your flapping. Be more discreet."

"Discreet my ass," Kyouhei grumbled. "Your _girlfriend's_ the one who needs watch her mouth."

Kyouhei felt righteously vindicated as Takenaga flushed pink. "She's not my g-girlfriend," he stuttered just as Noi caught up to them.

"Who’s not your girlfriend?" she asked suspiciously, still a bit breathless from her jog.

Kyouhei shrugged innocently and looked expectantly at Takenaga.

This should be good.

"I, uh...what I meant is..." Kyouhei snickered into his muffler at the lost, desperate look on Takenaga's face. As suave as Takenaga usually was, he was also painstakingly shy around Noi, even though his crush was obvious to everyone and their relatives. It was beyond Kyouhei as to why since it was also pretty obvious to everyone and their relatives that Noi reciprocated his feelings with fervor. Watching his floundering around Noi was always fun, though.

"I meant that...what I really was trying to say was--I forgot my books!" he finally blurted in a blatant attempt to escape from Noi's frowny face. Kyouhei had clearly seen him pack all his belongings into his bag. "I'll be right back, then," he said quickly and before either Kyouhei or Noi could stop him, began to jog back to school. Kyouhei clicked his tongue in exasperation as he watched Takenaga run; the phrase 'running off with his tail between his legs' was never more appropriate.

"Was he talking about me, Kyouhei?" Noi asked, bringing his attention back.

Oh, great. Now he was being subjected to Noi's frowny face. Damn Takenaga and his cowardice.

Still, Takenaga was his friend and Kyouhei had no intention of getting caught between a lover's spat. There was no point in lying because Noi wasn't Kosaku (thankfully) so Kyouhei settled for an ambiguous shrug of the shoulders.

"Kyouhei!" Noi snapped and stomped her foot in another one of her little fits. The eyes of passerbys quickly snapped towards them.

"Damnit, Noi!" Kyouhei hissed. "Keep your voice down."

"Then tell me what you and Takenaga were talking about!"

"I don't know!"

That was a mistake; Noi latched onto his lie like a cat to a ball of yarn. Literally. The grip of her nails on his shoulders would have been painful if not for his vest. "Tell me, Kyouhei!" she demanded, eyes even more suspicious now that she figured he had a reason to lie. More and more people were stopping near them now and Kyouhei was just about to push her off when someone did it for him.

"Let go of Kyouhei!" Kosaku shouted and detached him from Noi in a swift, karate-chop like arm swing. Kyouhei stood dumbfounded as Kosaku stepped between them, hands on his hip like some stupid hero -even the hoodie of his jersey was flapping around like some deficient cape- and moved to face Noi. "I like Kyouhei and I'm stronger so Kyouhei's mine! I can protect him better," he began in a strong voice and Kyouhei, now frozen in mortification, could only think _oh, god_. "Through thick and thin, I'll be with Kyouhei and protect him from anything!" He ended his stupid hero speech with a victory sign. From over his shoulder, Kyouhei could see Noi gape at him.

Kyouhei could only gape back. And he would have continued gaping if it weren't for the murmurings of his name passing around the sizable crowd that had formed around them. It was growing by moment with every word Kosaku spoke. 

Instinct sharpened by years of experience telling him to _run_ , Kyouhei tugged at the back of Kosaku's sweatshirt.

"Kyouhei?" Kosaku asked as he made to turn around.

"Run. _Now_."

And that was all the warning Kyouhei gave before he shoved his way through the crowd, the element of surprise lending him a head start. Hands grabbed at every inch of his body but Kyouhei didn't pause at the violation; he was used to it by now. Not bothering to check his injuries or whether Kosaku had followed him, Kyouhei successfully broke through the crowd and took down the street in a sprint.

He could already hear the stampede of the mob following his wake, shouts of "I love you, Kyouhei!", "Marry me, Kyouhei!" and "Kyouhei, be mine!" ringing in his ear. The restriction order he had placed on the students at his school was only valid during school hours; during off-hours, he was on his own.

The early nightfall of autumn coming to his aid, Kyouhei continued his zigzagging sprint through the streets. He was beginning to fatigue though, the breath filling his lungs now stinging with every gasp, and the mob, judging from the increasing volume of shouts, was gaining followers. Taking a risk, Kyouhei took a sharp turn into narrow alley that forked on the left in the middle of a street he was now in, the crowd just around the corner of the block.

"Damnit!" he hissed as he turned into the alley and his foot slipped on a patch of slime. Unable to control his fall, Kyouhei landed face first onto the garbage strewn asphalt. With no time to assess his damage, Kyouhei gritted his teeth and sat himself upright, just to see that the alley was a dead end; a brick wall sealed the passage and the only dumpster present was too far away to lend any leverage that would help Kyouhei vault over the wall.

Swearing, Kyouhei punched the ground with a fist. He didn't even register the pain, being too preoccupied with the mauling he was going to receive once the mob of rabid fans found him. Because they would, now that Kyouhei had trapped himself; he could already hear them turning the corner of the street.

Curling his fists and straightening his shoulders, Kyouhei vowed to himself that if he was going to go down, then he'd go down fighting--just like the manga hero everyone assumed him to be. He wasn't a coward like Takenaga who couldn't even face his own girl; no, Kyouhei was going to face hundreds of them head on.

Trying to stand up in order to do just, Kyouhei felt a pair of hands grab under his arms. So they were here already...

...except Kyouhei hadn't heard them and there was no such thing as a stealthy mob of fangirls. That could only mean...

"Kosaku?" Kyouhei asked with incredulity. He hadn't thought it was possible for Kosaku to be stealthy, either. Boxing must have trained him to be light on his feet.

"Shh!" Kosaku whispered and the thought of Kosaku shushing him when it was his own fat, stupid mouth that had gotten him into this scenario in the first place, made Kyouhei want to pummel the moron with the irony. But Kyouhei would save that for later. "Kyouhei sure runs fast, nee~ I almost couldn't keep up," Kosaku whispered in his ear as he lifted him up from behind. Kyouhei was not at all embarrassed by the ease with which he managed that. Not at all.

"Yeah, well," Kyouhei licked his lips which had somehow gotten dry with all the whispering. "You'd have been better off. You're trapped here with me, now." He glanced back up at Kosaku who was still holding on to him, as if he were afraid Kyouhei would tip over like a bowling pin.

Kosaku stared right back at him. Though it was dark and Kyouhei could just barely make out anything, their proximity gave Kosaku's gaze an intensity he hadn't seen before (or hadn't bothered to see); it made Kyouhei's skin buzz.

Kosaku leaned in further and for a moment, Kyouhei thought the moron was going to kiss him, right in the middle of a dumpster alley with Kyouhei stinking of garbage and a hysteric mob of fangirls -and perhaps a couple fanboys- breathing down their necks--because if anybody were to do something so ridiculously tactless, it would be Kosaku. Shockingly, Kyouhei didn't even mind the idea all that much; it all seemed so miniscule now that he was on the brink of death and it seemed like a fitting end to the story of his life: being harassed from his childhood to his deathbed.  
   
But Kosaku, who was anything but predictable, stopped just shy of touching noses. "If it's with Kyouhei, then I don't mind being trapped," he whispered and Kyouhei could smell the ramen on his breath. For some odd reason that would later be explained by the near-death-experience induced adrenaline rush, it made Kyouhei's pulse race.

A high-pitched call of Kyouhei's name broke whatever moment had just occurred and before Kyouhei could say or do anything, Kosaku was pulling him towards the large, green dumpster.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Kyouhei moaned.

He watched with carefully concealed awe as Kosaku lifted the hefty lid of the dumpster with one arm, the other still supporting Kyouhei--and for good reason. Now that he was actually standing up, Kyouhei could feel the pain snaking up his leg from his ankle; he must have twisted it during his fall.

Kosaku turned back to look at him.

"Kyouhei should go first. I promised to protect you," he whispered and moved behind Kyouhei to lift him up and into the dumpster.

Any other time Kyouhei would have argued back with his fists, but his ankle made it impossible to jump in on his own and the mob would be arriving in less than sixteen seconds so Kyouhei, for the first time, swallowed his pride and let Kosaku indulge in his delusion of heroic chivalry. He landed on heaps of black garbage bags which, according to his fantastic luck today, split open at his added weight like some obscene, garbage-filled piñata. Kosaku jumped in just a moment after, landing right alongside him; Kyouhei watched jealously as none of the garbage bags beneath _him_ burst open and poked at his own stomach in complaint. He'd have to be cutting down on those shrimps soon.

The second after the dumpster lid closed with an echoing _thud_ Kyouhei heard the mob reach the opening of the alley. They didn't stay for long, though, since the noise started fading away soon after.

"Do you think they're gone now?" Kosaku asked, forgetting to whisper. "Kyo--"

Kyouhei quickly muffled the idiot with a palm slapped to his mouth. "Shut it!" he hissed and concentrated on the sounds outside; it was possible that the walls of the dumpster were acting as a buffer. A wet flick to the center of his palm had Kyouhei reeling back with a look of complete and utter disgust.

"Do you even know where that's been?" he hissed in outrage and wiped his moist palm on his jeans; all that accomplished to do was to make his hand dirtier. Kyouhei was  _that_ filthy and all the moron could do was giggle like a...well, a moron. Kyouhei would think up another insult for him later; for now, moron worked just fine. 

"Kyouhei makes the best faces," Kosaku answered and Kyouhei refused to acknowledge the fondness lacing his words. He did snort though, because really, the moron was one to talk.

"It's probably safe to leave now. I can’t hear them out there anymore," Kyouhei said. As he maneuvered himself to lit up the lid, avoiding the patches of spilling food residue and other revolting things that Kyouhei did not want to ponder over -the stench of the dumpster alone had his stomach churning in rebellion- Kosaku grabbed at his shirt and pulled him back.

"Wait!" he whispered. "I think I heard something!"

Kyouhei paused to listen. All he registered was silence, save for his and Kosaku's breaths.

"I don't hear anything," Kyouhei grumbled and tried to jerk away from Kosaku's grip. Why was he so damn clingy?

"No! I did hear something!" Kosaku replied earnestly, pulling Kyouhei back beside him. "We should wait for a while. I mean, what if the scary ladies are still out there? Ah! And there were some scary men, too. I can't let them have Kyouhei. Kyouhei's mine!"

At this point -hiding in a stenchy dumpster with a twisted ankle and tattered clothes- Kyouhei didn't even bother to set the moron's delusions straight. And he did have a point; it was quite possible that the members of the mob had broken away from the group and were searching from him. If Kosaku had heard something, then it would probably be best to wait it out a bit longer.

Taking great care not to breathe in too deeply because he was sure the putrid fumes wafting from the garbage were toxic, Kyouhei took the opportunity to examine his ankle. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness of the dumpster so he could see the swollen line of his ankle as he folded up the leg of his torn jeans (and they were his vintage pair, too, Kyouhei bemoaned). He _tsked_ under his breath. The walk home was going to be painful, but manageable. He then assessed the rest of his damage. The skin of his palms had shredded at his fall and now bits of alley grime lay embedded in his skin; he'd have to disinfect them when he got home, which wouldn't be too much of a hassle since he would be needing the alcohol anyways. Now that the adrenaline was subsiding, Kyouhei could feel the dull ache in his cheek bone where his face had hit the asphalt. He'd probably need to disinfect that, too. That was the major damage; everything else was minor. Just little cuts and bruises from when he had shoveled through the crowd.

Feeling more than nauseous now that the fumes were finally getting to him, Kyouhei made the mistake to look up at Kosaku who had been strangely silent for the past few minutes.

The freak was dangling a string of spaghetti -Kyouhei couldn't believe he had dug through the garbage just to find it- near his mouth.

"Don't eat it!" Kyouhei shouted and slapped Kosaku's spaghetti carrying hand away. There was still some brown, mouldy looking...sauce?...still clinging to it, for god's sake. Kyouhei's stomach quivered dangerously at the sight. He glared at the disgusting freak who was now pouting at him, clutching his abused hand to his chest and rubbing soothing circles on it; Kyouhei valiantly shooed away the image of Kosaku as a crazy cat lady. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you trying to poison yourself?"

Not that Kyouhei cared, really. It's just that if Kosaku really had ingested the string of spaghetti, Kyouhei really would have vomited. There were only so many vile things Kyouhei could stomach in one evening and today's quota was more than full.

"But I'm hungry," Kosaku whined, dragging out his words like a three year old would, except even a three year old would know not to put something so filthy in its mouth just by the smell. "I haven't eaten anything for hours. I'm hungry, Kyouhei."

The whiney tone was beginning to grate on Kyouhei's nerves.

"Then just leave already," Kyouhei snapped. "I'm pretty sure the coast is clear now, anyway--"

"Not yet!" Kyouhei moved back before the moron could latch on to him again. "I just heard something again! Let's wait a little longer? Please? I promise not to talk," Kosaku said, eyes wide and pleading.

Kyouhei narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The idiot blinked back.

With a huffy breath, Kyouhei settled back onto his pillow of garbage, promising to himself that he'd only wait for another five minutes. It was only a minute into the silence when Kyouhei felt Kosaku press against his side, his black head falling onto Kyouhei's shoulder. For a moment, Kyouhei thought that the moron had fallen asleep, knocked unconscious by the thick stench of the dumpster. But then he released a happy giggle and Kyouhei stilled.

Was...was the moron trying to _cuddle_ with him? In a dumpster, no less?

Bristling with anger, Kyouhei jerked his shoulder to throw Kosaku off him. Here he was, hiding in a dumpster nursing a twisted ankle and risking the infection of his wounds by the minute in order to avoid whoever was out there, only no one _was_ out there because Kosaku was a stupid, selfish moron who cared more about scoring a stupid cuddle session amongst a heap full of garbage. Selfish, just like all his other stalkers.

Without a word, Kyouhei scrambled out of the dumpster, ignoring Kosaku's warning of "Wait, Kyouhei! You're ankle!"

He managed to land on his feet but the sharp pain that shot up his leg told him that he might have just damaged his ankle even further. Kyouhei had to lean against the dumpster for a moment to brace himself against the pain. He swung an angry fist at Kosaku when the moron tried to lift Kyouhei's arm over his shoulder. Kosaku managed to dodge it.

"Don't touch me," Kyouhei hissed, shooting him a venomous glare.

Kosaku paid no heed to his warning and moved forward again, mumbling something along the lines of, "But Kyouhei's hurt!"

Kyouhei swung his other fist--and this time succeeded in making contact.

Kosaku stumbled back onto the asphalt. Cradling the side of his jaw where Kyouhei's knuckles had hit, he looked up at Kyouhei in shock, the disheveled bangs falling into his face doing nothing to hide his glassy eyes. Kyouhei was too angry to really care; as a boxer, Kosaku should be used to taking a punch to the face, anyway. "I'm...I was only trying to help," Kosaku said softly.

"Help me?!" Kyouhei echoed, his voice rising. "It's because of _you_ this happened to me in the first place!" he spat at Kosaku's feet. The idiot was still sitting on the ground, which was for the best; if he had tried to stand up, Kyouhei probably would have knocked him down again. With a last withering look at the limp idiot, Kyouhei turned to leave.

"Kyouhei lied to me!" Kosaku shouted.

Kyouhei whipped back to his sorry state.

"What?" he growled dangerously. "I don't owe you _anything_."

Ignoring the last bit, Kosaku rose himself to his feet with gaining momentum. Now what was the moron on about? Kyouhei was beyond fed up with his idiocy.

"Kyouhei said he liked someone but that was a lie, wasn't it? Kyouhei doesn't like anyone!"

Now if only the moron could realize he, too, was included in the 'anyone'.

"Yeah, and how the hell would you know?" Kyouhei shot back. He was sure that Kosaku had eaten up his lie when they had met earlier this very day.

"I asked your fr--" Kosaku slapped his hands to his mouth with an obvious look of regret.

After a momentary pause, Kyouhei grabbed at his hair in rage. Forget the alcohol, he was going to _murder_ Yukinojo the second he got home.

He glanced at Kosaku. "What are you doing questioning my friends about me behind my back?"

The brief triumphant look Kosaku wore melted away into guilt. "That's because Kyouhei won't talk to me!" he said defensively and then glanced to the side, licking at his broken lip. It was pitch dark now but the streetlamp nearby shone down on them, throwing the smear of blood near Kosaku's jaw in sharp relief. Something in Kyouhei twinged at the sight.

He was probably putting too much weight on his ankle.

"I...I just want to know more about Kyouhei. I love Kyouhei." The confession was but a mere whisper but in the silence of the night, Kyouhei heard it loud and clear.

Kyouhei laughed, letting the mockery seep into his voice. This had gone too far. It was time to set the idiot straight.

"Love me? You barely even know me."

"Kyouhei saved me!" Kosaku persisted like the naive fool he was.

"I gave you a scrap of food! I would have done the same for a stray dog, you moron," Kyouhei said meanly.

Kosaku flinched at the verbal blow but bounced back like a true boxer, ready for more. A part of Kyouhei pitied him for his naivety, but a part was also grateful. Kosaku was a fighter so he'd easily recover after the verbal beating Kyouhei was about to rain down on him. All the less guilt for Kyouhei.

"That doesn't matter! Kyouhei helped me. Kyouhei cared."

Kyouhei gave a frustrated shout, punctuating it by throwing down his sticky muffler onto the alley floor. "You don't get it," he gritted out. "Anyone would have helped you--"

"But it wasn't anyone!" Kosaku's shout took Kyouhei by surprise. The idiot seemed truly upset now which was just so damn stupid. He had no right being upset when it was Kyouhei whose life was a mess. Kyouhei shot him a glare and for the first time Kosaku didn't flinch away or return it with his demented giggle; he stared right back. "It wasn't anyone. It was Kyouhei. Kyouhei's a good person...that's why I like you."

Kyouhei sighed at the firm set of Kosaku's jaw. His persistence was tiring. "So what you're saying is that anyone could have helped you at that moment and you'd fall for them, right?" He gave a snort. "I don't buy into this 'love at first sight' bullshit, sorry. And if that's the best you've got, then just crawl back into that rabbit hole you popped out from, already."

"It's not bull--bullsh--" Kyouhei rolled his eyes as he watched the moron struggle with the word. In his twenties and the idiot couldn't even bring himself to cuss. So not cute. Or manly, because that's what really mattered. "It's not stupid! Kyouhei saved me... You cared whether I lived or died."

And this time Kyouhei couldn't ignore the adoration and hope in his voice.

Enough was enough, then.

"And what a mistake that was," Kyouhei replied, his tone flat since he figured his words were scathing enough. "There's nothing I regret more than sparing you a glance that day. If only I'd known you'd be worse than a stray and would follow me around like the rest of my delusional stalkers... Trust me, I would've walked right passed you. I'm not as good as you think I am." He watched Kosaku's face for a moment as it morphed from confusion to shock and finally settled into hurt, eyes wide and a little dazed as if Kyouhei had just emptied a bucket of ice cold water over his head. When Kosaku made a move to say something, Kyouhei turned around as swiftly as he could manage with his useless ankle.

Which wasn't at all swift and involved more awkward limping than speed, lending an opportunity for Kosaku to speak.

"Kyouhei is a good person," he said in the softest voice Kyouhei had heard from him; there was none of the usual exuberance to keep it afloat. "You warned me, back then. You told me to run. Kyouhei didn't want me to get hurt... Kyouhei cared."

Kyouhei stiffened. Why did Kosaku have to pay attention to the most trivial things? Moreover, why did he have to make a point when Kyouhei was just about to ditch him for good? Stupid, unpredictable moron.

"Whatever. Continue on with you delusions, you stupid freak." With his back still facing Kosaku, Kyouhei began to limp back home. "But don't even think about following me. I'm done with you," he spat over his shoulder.

He left Kosaku and the grime of the alley without a single glance back.

No one followed.

\---

"What?!" Takenaga growled after Kyouhei had prodded him with his pen for the nth time.

_Finally._

"Lend me your textbook."

Takenaga eyed his awaiting palm. "What happened to yours?"

Kyouhei's jaw clenched. It was halfway during his walk home last night that he realized he'd lost his backpack. Someone had either grabbed it when he was shoving through the mob of fans or he'd dropped it when he was on the run. Either way, it was gone now -probably mounted on some crazy stalker's shrine with the rest of his missing things- and so were his books. And his key.

"Don't ask," Kyouhei answered darkly and Takenaga wisely handed him his text without further inquiry.

Kyouhei was not in a good mood. After losing his key, he'd had railed against the house door but not one of its three occupants had woken up so he'd fallen asleep curled up outside the doorstep. He'd had a bizarre dream in which he was a squirrel and was being fed little bits of spaghetti by Kosaku who'd chew it for him first like some squawking, overgrown bird. Thankfully that nightmare hadn't last long and he'd awoken late into the morning in his bed, wounds dressed and alone in the house. His ankle was still sore, though, and he would have skipped school that day if it weren't for the fact that he had a vendetta to take care of.

Not that attending school accomplished anything.

Kyouhei swore Yukinojo had his squealing fans spying on him. Every time Kyouhei was about to enter his vicinity, the little traitor managed to vanish on the spot. Not to mention that Kyouhei's limping wasn't helping in the chase.

"Come on," Takenga said, bumping his shoulder into Kyouhei's and startling him from his thoughts. "It's lunch time. Let's get some food."

Kyouhei took a broad scan of the cafeteria as soon as he set his tray down to eat. No curly blond head in sight.

"Give it up already. Even if you find him, there's nothing you can do with your ankle like that," Takenga said. Always the voice of reason.

Kyouhei harrumphed and dived into his lunch. Nothing better to lift his spirits than a large serving of shrimp. Plus, he'd need the energy if he was going to hunt down Yukinojo. 

"So are you going to tell me _why_ you've been chasing after Yukinojo since yesterday?" Takenaga asked impatiently, tapping his chopsticks on the table top.

Kyouhei popped a shrimp into his mouth.

"Dwonat aschk," he replied. A little fleck of food spittle came flying out of his mouth and at Takenaga's look of revulsion, Kyouhei shrugged and dove back into his meal. A man should know not to distract his fellow man from his food.

"You're disgusting. You know that, right?" Takenaga said just as Ranmaru sat down next to him.

"I'm presuming you're talking about Kyouhei? If so, then the entire world -or at least all of Japan- knows it," Ranmaru said with a flamboyant extension of his arm. Kyouhei, still munching on his shrimp, gave him the finger. Ranmaru grinned in return. "Only his fans have yet to wake up and realize the truth. I pity their misguided souls," he said as he brushed away an invisible tear.

"They'll be awakened soon enough if Kyouhei continues stuffing his face like that," Takenaga replied coolly, a hint of a smirk quirking his lips.

Kyouhei snorted. If Takenaga was implying that _he_ was a glutton, then Kyouhei was eager to know what he'd think of Kosaku...

...except Takenaga wouldn't think of Kosaku because he'd never met him and now never would.

Because Kyouhei had taken care that the moron would never bother him again.

Right.

"Right," he said, standing up and depositing his now empty tray. "I'm done here so I'm heading back home."

"Aww, don't tell me we've hurt Kyouhei's delicate feelings," Ranmaru said teasingly.

Kyouhei smacked him.

"My ankles being a pain and I don't have my books anyway--"

"Why not?" Ranmaru asked and Takenaga swiftly answered for him with a quick, "Don't ask."

"--so I might as well head home and catch some sleep." And true enough, his jaw cracked into a wide yawn as he waved an indifferent 'see you jerks later' and made for the school exit.

He was only a few steps outside the cast iron gates when he heard it: a chant of "Kyouhei! Kyouhei! Kyouhei!" accompanied by a large number of footfalls.

Kyouhei froze. Why, oh _why_ , was fate so cruel?

There was no point in running with his stupid limp and the mob of crazy fangirls was approaching fast. Cursing everything in his life, Kyouhei leaned back against the brick wall enclosing the school property and closed his eyes in resignation. At least he had gotten to eat his favourite meal before his demise. Not many people who died sudden deaths at the hands of hysteric stalker fans got to do that so Kyouhei was lucky, really, in some sick, twisted sort of way.

Kyouhei blinked his eyes open in surprise when the mob ran right past him in a gust of wind. He stood there dumbstruck, knees weak with overwhelming relief, when he realized something was off. If the mob was chasing after Kyouhei and they weren't chasing after him...then who were they actually chasing?

Curiosity piqued, Kyouhei was about to walk after the mob when something caught his eye.

His wooly muffler -the one he had discarded the previous night- lay on the street in the wake of the stampede, the wool coming apart in straggling loops as if someone had yanked at it.

Kyouhei stared at it until comprehension dawned on him.

With a sudden, loud curse, he took after the mob, mindless of the pain in his ankle.

\---

How? Just how was it possible for the idiot to have reached the age of adulthood without suffocating from his own stupidity? Maybe Takenaga could explain it to him.

He watched from the corner as the idiot trapped himself in the same dead end alley they had gotten stuck in last night.

Sinking to an all new level of low, Kyouhei had stalked after the mob that had been trying to stalk him but had unknowingly ended up stalking another one of his stalkers; it all made sense, really, considering that Kosaku was the centre of the entire scenario. As soon as Kyouhei realized the familiar route the idiot was taking, he had taken a shortcut ahead and now stood in the shadows watching Kosaku panic like the phenomenal moron he was. Talk about role reversal.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kyouhei snapped as soon as he walked up behind him and tried not to smile as Kosaku bounced into the air and then into the wall, clutching at his heaving chest. Instead of his usual grey jersey, he was wearing a plaid patterned shirt and vest combo similar to Kyouhei's own and most of his hair was hidden beneath a large blue beanie. Only his face remained bare and that too held a startlingly similarity to Kyouhei's own.

It was pretty obvious what the idiot was trying to do and Kyouhei tried and failed not to be touched by it.

Kosaku had just opened his mouth to respond when the mob's chanting returned. It was just around the corner. Kyouhei felt a strong surge of déjà vu except it wasn't at all mystifying. Almost everything was eerily similar to the events of last night, barring the obvious differences of course, like it being sunny daytime and the stench of the alley now being less powerful (though still nauseating) as if it had somehow dampened over night. Overall, things were looking brighter.

"Dumpster?" Kosaku asked, already making a move towards it. Kyouhei knocked him over the head.

"Don't even think about."

One night in that dumpster had been more than enough. And Kyouhei had just eaten a heap full of shrimps just beforehand, too; there's no way he'd take the risk of having them resurface. An idea coming to mind, Kyouhei swiped Kosaku's beanie and after giving him an order to 'stay here', ran to the street's intersection. He threw the beanie further down the street and ran back to the alley where Kosaku waited anxiously. The idiot jumped when he saw Kyouhei.

"What, you thought I wasn't going to come back?"

Kyouhei had expected Kosaku to answer in adamant refusal and a comment on Kyouhei's righteousness and honesty and so on, but all Kosaku gave was a small, weak shrug and a shaky smile. So maybe it wasn't exactly the reaction Kyouhei was expecting, but it was the reaction he'd preferred and been longing for all along, wasn't it? Unassuming and mild?

Kyouhei couldn't understand why he felt so frustrated.

"Just hide here," he said gruffly as he grabbed onto Kosaku's elbow and tugged him down into a squat behind the dumpster. Kosaku followed without a word or resistance.

In a moment they heard the crowd near and a girly voice shout out, "It's Kyouhei's hat!" That was soon followed by a vicious fight over who would get to keep said hat. Kyouhei shuddered as he imagined himself out there; he'd be picked apart like raw meat thrown into a nest of vultures. He was thankfully distracted from that disturbing image when Kosaku stood up.

"And where are you going?" Kyouhei asked, looking up at Kosaku from his squatting position.

"I want Kyouhei's hat, too," he answered distractedly.

Kyouhei just stared at him, not believing his ears. It was just too painful to be true.

"That's not even my hat," he said slowly, still staring at Kosaku in awe. "It's yours."

Kosaku blinked and with a sheepish laugh, crouched back down.

"That's right! I forgot," he giggled and Kyouhei almost moved away in fright. There was no way Takenaga could explain it. Just, no way.

And there was no way Kyouhei would admit that the loosening in his chest at Kosaku's interest in claiming his hat was relief.

Because that would be pathetic.

A few more minutes of waiting and the fight came to an end. The victor of Kosaku's mangled beanie gave a cackle of delight and the mob continued down the street, not even bothering to peek into the alley. Kyouhei smiled to himself. He was a genius.

"Kyouhei's a genius!" Kosaku chirped and bounced to his feet. Kyouhei followed.

"Compared to you? Hell yeah," he replied.

And then the awkward silence began.

It was unprecedented between them since Kosaku was a loudmouthed idiot who would never know when to shut up -apparently that had its perks, Kyouhei realized- but now he just stood there, silent and avoiding Kyouhei's gaze as he fiddled awkwardly with the buttons of his shirt. Kyouhei punched him on the arm to get his attention.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"Why does Kyouhei always hit me?"

"Why were you pretending to be me?"

"To protect you!" Kosaku's eyes widened as if he had spilled a secret--as if his intentions weren't at all obvious, which they _were_. Glancing away, he muttered, "I promised to protect Kyouhei and Kyouhei's ankle was hurt so I had to--"

"So you had to act as my decoy and throw yourself at a mob of vicious fangirls for my sake?" Kyouhei finished for him and Kosaku gave a hesitant nod. Kyouhei told whatever part of himself that was warmed by the confession to go die.

And then something occurred to him.

"But didn't you have a boxing tournament today?"

Kosaku nodded again, looking away. Kyouhei gaped at him. Kosaku shrugged.

"Your coach is going to kill you," Kyouhei said.

Kosaku shrugged.

"She's going to starve you, you know? You won't be able to eat your favourite ramen for weeks," he pressed.

Kosaku shrugged, still not looking at him.

Kyouhei growled and shoved him up against the alley wall.

"Why do you do this?" he hissed. "I don't need your petty sacrifices on my con--"

"Because Kyouhei is important," Kosaku interrupted softly and Kyouhei abruptly paused to stare. "Kyouhei is important."

Kyouhei released him and stepped back to give them both room. Not good. This was not good.

The idiot, despite being mindless, wasn't like his other mindless stalkers. He was _serious_.

What was so much more embarrassingly worse, it made Kyouhei...happy. Sort of. But not really.

His heart was expanding down to his lungs, was all. Nothing to make assumptions on.

This was all Yukinojo's fault, Kyouhei thought darkly.

Some of Kyouhei's anger must have shown on his face for Kosaku flinched and made to move away.

"Get back," Kyouhei ordered and watched in amusement as Kosaku immediately plastered himself back to the wall.

"If Kyouhei hits me again, I'm leaving!" he said with a pout, arms folded across his chest in defense.

And here was the golden opportunity.

Now was Kyouhei's chance. He could end it right here and have his life returned to its normal state. No more alleys and dumpsters and loud, moronic stalkers who'd follow him around with a dopey smile and receive his temper with a giggle and endless forgiveness.

"And if I don't?" Kyouhei asked instead, taking a step closer. "What if I promise not to hit you again--except when you really deserve it--then what?"

Kosaku's eyes widened in disbelief. Kyouhei smirked; the idiot wasn't the only who could be unpredictable.

"K-Kyouhei has to pinky promise," Kosaku replied, his voice so painstakingly hopeful.

Kyouhei rolled his eyes. It was a déjà vu all over again.

"Alright." Kyouhei lifted his pinky and another familiar pinky soon joined his.

Kosaku wasn't smiling, though. He was staring straight at Kyouhei, his eyes unnervingly calculating. Kyouhei hadn't known he had it in him.

"Kyouhei...isn't lying this time?" he asked cautiously and Kyouhei couldn't blame him.

Kyouhei shook his head and lifted his free hand, wriggling his fingers just like he had the day before.

"Fingers uncrossed," he whispered.

"Fingers uncrossed," Kosaku repeated, staring at his hand.

Failing to ignore the swelling in his chest, Kyouhei watched as an elated smile erupted across Kosaku's face, his eyes nearly disappearing with the sheer joy of it. Kyouhei couldn't control the responding twitch of his lips.

Things were definitely looking brighter.

(And then Kosaku released an impish laugh. "But what about Kyouhei's toes?")  
  
~end~


End file.
